A Deafening Silence
by katieforpresident
Summary: Ian was born with something to prove, but his abhorrance for Wanderer slowly becomes a new kind of passion. O'Wanda. [A oneshot]


**Title**: A Deafening Silence

**Summary**: Ian was born with something to prove. How does affect his relationship with Wanda throughout their story? A walkthrough on Ian's struggles and how he overcomes his abhorrence of Wanda. [A oneshot] _Warning:_ Formatted the same as "Through the Looking Glass"

**Rating**: T, for mature concepts

**Disclaimer**: "_The Host_" and it's appropriate affiliations do not belong to me. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

I was born silent.

Most kids are loud, aren't they? I mean, children don't just slide out, quiet and obedient, ready to get on with life. They cry; they kick and whine. Or they come out like Kyle did, screaming bloody murder, straining their brand new vocal chords almost to the breaking point.

But I was different. The story goes that the doctors thought I was a stillborn, I was so quiet. They tested me right away, before my mother even got a chance to hold me – _is he breathing, is his heart beating? Is he _alive_? _A few moments later they were able to calm my frantic parents, telling them _he's okay. He's fine. He's just a quiet one. This one...be careful. He's got something to prove_.

It always seemed contradictory to me – if I had something to prove, wouldn't I be as loud as I could? Wouldn't I shriek and fight and flail? But they were certainly right, those doctors.

I was born with something to prove. And when _she_ came, that didn't change one iota.

.

It went in stages. First, the hatred. I loathed her, I and wasn't afraid to show how much. Even more than Jared, whose self conflicted with the being wrapped in a body he loved. Even more than Kyle, who wanted to destroy anyone who resembled the creature that had taken his other half away from him.

Oh yes, I detested her, and in an inky, cramped cavern, I got my chance to prove exactly how much.

But I was restrained. I was cut short by the harsh sound of a gun being cocked, and then stopped completely by a blow across the face. I'd had the chance to kill her, and I hadn't.

For the first time, my attempt to prove myself failed.

.

I wasn't used to letdown. Now it seemed I was facing failure after failure. I'd tell myself, _next time I see her, I'll go for it. One quick blow, that's all it will take_. But then I'd see Jamie watching, and think no, I can't, not in front of the kid. Next time. But next time would come, and she'd be making bread, and we needed bread. So I'd wait. _I'll do it next time_. It went on and on, until the excuses I made sounded feeble even to my own ears.

I don't remember ever actually making the decision; in fact, I don't think it was ever a conscious choice to accept her. I found myself waking up in the mornings thinking about her, where to find here, what to say. I didn't want to hurt her anymore. I wanted to help her.

I admitted it to myself in the privacy of my room. Letting other people know I had accepted the girl for what she was, though... That was a whole new ordeal. So once again, I began to challenge myself.

_Say hi to her in the kitchen_.

_Smile at her during lunch._

_Catch her if she trips over a clump of dirt while working in the fields._

_Bring her soap for the washroom_.

And it worked. As everyone slowly warmed up to the girl they now called Wanda, I began to feel a sense of pride. I could do it – I could tolerate and care for this person. I could get over what she was; I could ignore it. I wasn't the type to give up, after all. I had something to prove.

My feeling of being whole was nearly complete. I was like a drawing in a child's coloring book – shaded in almost perfectly with a gentle crayon. All that was left was a bit on the side. Just a bit more. That was all I needed. I was so close – _so close_.

And then the others came back from their trip. While they ended one raid, they began another: a raid on our tentative relationship with Wanda. They barged in and muddled our eyes once again with angry, bitter words; words about betrayal and treachery.

"Have you gone crazy!?" Kyle demanded of us.

The doubt that flickered, no matter how briefly, in the eyes of those who'd come to trust Wanda was enough to break all those hours of coloring myself in. I'd been so close, _so close_... I'd had something to prove to myself; something that would assure me that I wasn't the cruel, pitiless man I'd shown myself to once be. I'd thought that if only I could change the minds of my friends, then maybe, maybe I'd know...

So for the second time, my chance to prove myself failed.

.

The arrival of the men who'd gone on the raid provided me with a new challenge. Before, I was able to trust that Wanda would be safe around the others. Now, though, with Kyle and Brandt lurking around every corner, I knew Wanda would no longer safe on her own.

So I did the only thing I could: I protected her by never leaving her alone. Everywhere she went, I went too. While crude, the plan was effective. With me as her bodyguard, Wanda was safe.

But I wasn't.

Watching someone's every move, paying close attention to her every step... it does something to a person. It did something to _me_. I began to notice things I'd never seen before. I began to see _Wanda_. Wanda, kissing Jamie's check before bed. Wanda, working longer than any other woman in the kitchen, with no break. Wanda, taking the small piece of bread so that I could have the larger one. Wanda...

I would walk into a room, and the first person I'd look for would be her. I'd see Cheetos in the storage, and think _Wanda would like these_. I'd catch a flash of hair and be instantly on the alert. Wanda...

Again, I was trying to prove myself. Only this time, I was trying to prove myself to Wanda.

This time, I could not fail.

.

Now, it's all clear to me. I love Wanda. Of course I do. I think, deep down, I knew it would happen. When I first saw her, I hated her because I feared her. I knew that I was weak, and I knew that I might someday allow myself to care for a creature that, at the time, I thought would be a crime to even accept.

I'm still trying to prove myself. She's so delicate, so frail... So full of doubts about her own beauty. She doesn't understand how I could love her. Last night before bed I tried, once again, to show her exactly how much I care.

"I love you too, Ian," she'd replied, "more that you'll ever know."

"I know," I told her. "I know." She only sighed. "Don't you trust me?" I couldn't keep the frustration out of my voice. "Don't you see that you, Wanda, _you_ are who I am meant to be with? You think you're just a parasite in someone else's head, but that's not true. You Jamie's sister, Wanda. You are Melanie's best friend." I gently turned her face toward mine. "You are living in the people around you. You take yourself away and you take a little bit of everyone else away too." I put her hand over my heart, knowing she could feel the gentle beats. "You take yourself away, and you take _that_ away."

We lay in silence, her hand over my heart, until we fell asleep.

I don't know if she'll ever believe me. All I know is that I'll keep trying, no matter how long it takes. I will be with her, by her side, for the rest of our lives. As long as she can feel the beating of my heart, she will know that I love her.

Sometimes, it doesn't take words.

If you have something to prove, sometimes, silence is best.

* * *

As always, **a quick word** would mean so much more to me. Let me know **what you think** in a review. A writer **grows** off the **observations** of others.

**Thanks!**


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